Book Review: Bad Mother by Ayelet Waldman

2009 at 12am     Posted by Rebecca Joines Schinsky

Published May 2009 by Doubleday (a division of RandomHouse)

My friend Kristen wrote a guest review of this book back in the spring that prompted me to read Ayelet Waldman’s controversial essay in which she said that she loved her husband more than she loved her children, and that prompted me to make my own confession about still being on the fence about the whole to-breed-or-not-to-breed issue. Kristen was kind enough to send me her ARC, and I finally got around to reading it during last month’s read-a-thon.

Maybe it’s because I’m still undecided about whether I want to have children (still leaning toward not, just in case you’re wondering), but I find these warts-and-all candid accounts of parenthood completely fascinating and irresistible.After reading Waldman’s husband Michael Chabon’s recent collection Manhood for Amateurs, I had high hopes, and Bad Mother did not disappoint.

Anyway, Bad Mother is a collection of eighteen essays that chronicle, according to the subtitle, “maternal crimes, minor calamities, and occasional moments of grace.” It is a modern woman’s progressive take on marriage, partnership, parenting, and tough decisions. And why is it called Bad Mother?  Well, because this is a book “about the perils and joys of trying to be a decent mother in a world intent on making you feel like a bad one.”

In the title essay, Waldman explores the double standards our society applies to defining good parenting.

Being a Good Father is a reasonable, attainable goal; you need only be present and supportive. Being a Good Mother, as defined by mothers themselves, is impossible.

This same idea appears in an essay in Chabon’s collection, and I found it very interesting to read about the separate experiences of both members of a couple. Addressing another issue of couplehood in “Free to Be You and I,” Waldman wonders “Is the problem not that men choose to do only a third of the domestic labor but that women let them?” Refusing to accept the (asinine) notion that being a woman makes one inherently more inclined to or more skilled at cooking, cleaning, etc., she recounts the ways in which she and her husband have divided the work of raising children and running a household, and if I weren’t already a little bit in love with Michael Chabon, this would have put me over. Women need to expect the men in their lives to be equal partners, and men need to come to the table prepared to do so.

Waldman also addresses the fact that strangers often feel compelled to express their ideas or opinions about parenting and force them onto others, and in the essay “Breast is Best,” she recounts a very funny story (that I won’t tell you because I want you to read the book yourself) and admits that “As a parent, I am absolutely certain of only one thing: my own fallibility.”  Her willingness to admit her mistakes, confess her uncertainty, and drop the facade of being a perfect parent make Bad Mother a very compelling read.

In “Sexy Witches and Cereal Boxes,” Waldman discusses her early sexual experiences, her determination to be honest with her children about sex, and her struggle to accept her daughter’s impending sexual awakening. While her own first experience was with an older, more experienced man, she has different desires for her daughter.

I want her boyfriend to be a pimply-faced boy her own age, blushing and gawking, with no more idea of what to make of a teenage girl than she has herself.

It’s encouraging to know that even the most progressive parents have a hard time figuring out how to navigate the whole birds-and-the-bees thing, isn’t it? I mean, I did sex research graduate school, and even I don’t know what to say to my sister-in-law about how to start having “the talk” with my ten-year-old niece. I can only imagine how I’d approach it with my own kids.

In addition to discussing relatively common dilemmas of marriage and family life, Waldman also recounts her decision to have an abortion when she learned that the baby had a genetic defect and was likely to be disabled and the process she and her husband went through in arriving at and making peace with that choice. That essay, “Rocketship,” is easily the most difficult-to-read piece in the collection, but it is also possibly the most important for the way it lays out the meaning of “pro-choice,” the experience of having an abortion, and the intense complexity of the decision.

It’s easy to talk theory and to support a woman’s right to choose, but it is entirely another to exercise that right and be brave enough to tell the story. Waldman’s courage in discussing her choice and her strength in refusing to make apologies for it are what make Bad Mother more than just another example of “I wrote a funny book about being a parent.”

In the final essay, entitled “The Life I Want for Them,” Waldman criticizes modern parents’ insistence on raising high-achieving, multi-tasking children.

Why is it that when our children fail to meet our unrealistically high expectations—when they behave, instead, like normal, average kids—we end up disappointed?

And later:

We contemporary parents are convinced, just like the fictional population of Lake Wobegon, Minnesota, that all of our children are above average.

This is a problem not only because it gives children a false sense of confidence and sets them up for failure but also because when “you are so devoted to your expectations…it blinds you to the wonders of the children you have.” And even a Bad Mother needs to celebrate.

I thoroughly enjoyed this collection of essays and Waldman’s candid voice, smart humor, and wry observations, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to readers looking for a new perspective on marriage, parenting, and some of life’s toughest decisions. 4.25 out of 5.

As a side note, Bad Mother would be a fantastic selection for any of you participating in the Women Unbound Challenge.